


Two Steps Forward, No Steps Back

by thistooshallpass



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Hella fantasy, I'm trying something new here, Tags will be updated as we go along, Theres absolutely no real character development here i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-22 21:20:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11975247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistooshallpass/pseuds/thistooshallpass
Summary: Have you ever been drawn to the woods, perhaps as a child, or a particularly adventurous adult? Did you ever feel the lust for adventure make it's home in your veins, at the sheer thought of climbing a mountain's summit? Or did you ever feel your muscles twitch at the thought of sailing a river slowly, making your way deep into the heart of somewhere only the water could take you?You may have been closer than you think.





	1. Chapter 1

He adjusted the hat on his head, checking the time on the smartphone he would soon dispose of. The clear numbers shone through the night’s mist, creating an eerie effect in the vapour around him. He ached, for no particular reason, but he had been walking for quite some time. The pack on his back was beginning to painfully dig into his shoulders, creating an unwelcome strain on his muscles. But it was time to dispose of his possessions, anyway.

With as much strength as the boy had, he whipped his fancy expensive phone into the cracked pavement, chunks missing or replaced with gravel. The forest was slowly reclaiming its space, slowly taking the world back to where it once grew freely. The streetlights behind him shone so softly, making the harsh yellow of their glow seem almost pleasant. He dropped his heavy backpack; which contained his binder, textbooks, phone charger, and anything else worth lugging around everyday. The bag made an extremely satisfying thud that reverberated through the pavement under his feet. The only thing he unzipped the heavy bag to take out was his coil-bound sketchbook and a pencil. Shoving the pencil into his pocket alongside the pocket knife, he began to walk forward, untethered.

The forest began like every other wooded area: a few hiking trails, one more defined trail for bikers. The air hung light around him, easily bouncing off his skin. He walked slowly, keeping his eyes on the trail in till the soft glow of the streetlights behind him no longer bounced off the moisture on the ground, leaving him only the light from the moon to rely on.

He loved these woods. Sure, the outer layers weren’t much to look at, normal sized trees with the odd ground coverage, mostly foliage, but he still loved it. His father was right, he wouldn’t make it in the real world. What was the point of it? Technology, he scoffed to himself into the dark. He was ashamed to be a human, almost embarrassed to show his face back here. They were so attached to, well, nothing. They attached themselves to the silliest things. He didn’t need to know what everyone is doing every second of the day; he couldn’t handle all the terrible he faced every single day. Humans were so destructive, he couldn’t bare another day to wake up to more lives lost.

The path began to fade away, until the foliage gave way to large roots butting out of the ground. He stopped only for a moment, fishing a single strike anywhere match out of his back pocket, and a cream coloured pillar candle out of the pocket opposite to his knife and pencil. The candle didn’t provide much light, but it was enough to assure he’d be at least able to see where he was stepping. He heaved a great sigh, already feeling his anxiety ebbing away slowly. The leaves above him grew higher and denser, until they clotted together and blocked the light of the moons and stars almost completely. The only light in what might have been miles was from his own hand now.

The melting wax began to drip down his fingertips, but honestly, he didn't really mind. The night air held a chill and seemed to cling heavier to him now, sending a chill straight through him, as if fighting to get to his bones, to be a part of him. The hot wax was a brief comfort against his exposed fingers.

He stopped suddenly, a quick breath blowing the candle out in less than a moment. In an instant, the cold air that the heat of the small flame had held off rushed him, and his felt a brief shiver run up his spine at the sudden chill that touched him. He could hear one of them in the distance; the whisper over the wind. The air had gone from stagnant and cool to a warm breeze that whispered endearment to him, he knew one was near. He simply stood still, before crouching to the ground as low as he could, short of actually laying down on the ground. He could feel the warm air flitter above him, pushing and expanding, searching for the warm little life form it had just touched. Humans should never be on the ground this far into the forest. He felt a brief spike of fear draw through his chest, he wasn’t particularly fond of becoming a certain antler-ed creature’s meal this night, or whatever else the creature might do with him. Wendigos, for all their strengths, would never go near a Cervidae or Capreolinae that carried humans. No matter how strong the creatures may be, they were dangerous, not to be trifled with. It wasn’t worth the potential meal.

When the wind passed on, as he knew it would, he lifted the candle back up into the air. Drawing another match out of his pocket, he relit the candle once again, embracing the halo of warmth the small flame provided. 

He lifted it up, feeling a cold knot seize up in his chest. He didn’t realize the cold air had shifted from the crisp chill of an autumn night to something of death. In front of him was the broken ribcage of one of the Capreolinae, an elk of some sort was what he assumed. He would have put his hand to the giant bone in comfort had there not been bits of flesh still clinging to the bones. This wasn’t a good sign, a Capreolinae should never be taken down like this. His only comfort was the fact there was no hide left or any signs of humans, meaning either the humans who resided on its back had either moved on, or the elk had been uninhabited. Neither of which were good options, but better than a possibility of a family or small settlement being destroyed. He knew firsthand how much it hurt to lose your family’s home.

With a heavy sigh, he continued his trek deeper. He couldn’t linger around the corpse, there would be way too many scavengers in these parts.

The roots began to grow bigger and bigger as he pushed deeper, no foliage to speak of anymore. He had to physically pull himself up over the boulder sized roots, finding it increasingly difficult as he had no real free hands, one holding the candle (which had almost completely glued his fingers together with wax) and the other with his sketchbook tucked under it. He gave up trying to carry the sketchbook, resigning to biting down hard on the coil spine to carry it. The ground was frustratingly uneven, and he had to be careful. He may pull himself up one side of a root and go to set his toes down and notice the ground dropped several feet. His journey took a serious halt at that point, as he had to slide and manoeuvre his way down the root to solid ground. This wasn’t much of an issue until he faced another block; a downed tree.

Now, in most woods, a downed tree wouldn’t be too hard to get around. Climb over like a root, or simply walk around, right? Not here. The tree was easily a story and a half tall, and by the moon, who knew how long it was. From the looks of it, it could go on for miles, and had too many large branches to even attempt it.  
With another heavy sigh, he reluctantly blew out the candle, prying it off of his hand. He took a few minutes to deal with this, prying the wax off his fingers and shoving the chunks into his pocket with the candle that was easily half the size as it had been. There was no point in wasting so much wax, he could make another candle with it. When his fingers were (mostly) free from the frozen wax, he pushed his hands against the bark.

The night was still cold, the forest air hung damp around him. The bark of the tree was mossy, damp, slippery. It felt like a layer of slug slime hung off the branches, he gritted his teeth against it. If he would miss anything about the modern world, it would be how remarkably clean everything was. He began to hoist himself up, a careful and slow process. He would extend his reach as far as he could within his arm range, looking for deep enough notches. 

His upper body strength wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t weigh a whole lot, which helped the process a decent amount. It was so slow going, he was worried the sun would rise before he could find proper shelter, and he’d be out in the open. He was better at being careful in the night, he embraced the darkness with ease.  
He didn’t fear what he couldn’t see. It was only in the days light when his eyes could pay tricks on him.

When he finally reached the top of the massive tree, his arms and shoulders were in agony. Sitting carefully, he let himself lean his head back. Even under the canopy of leaves the massive trees provided them with, high up like this, there were the traces of a breeze. He loved it, he loved everything about it. By the moon, he had missed this. Why in the world had he ever left?

Sitting on the massive log, he was suddenly faced with a huge problem. How the fuck was he supposed to get down?


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t dare stand up on his perch, not wanting to test the slippery, mossy bark more than he already was. He tucked his beloved sketchbook under his sweater as if it were a pouch, scooting forward in a way that would have been violently humiliating if any one was around to watch him, resembling something of a dog dragging its butt against the ground. He cringed, feeling the moisture on the back of his thighs, even through his jeans that he thought were thick enough to handle his home.

Swinging his legs carefully over the rounded peak, he kicked his heels into the bark, looking for any groove thick enough to rest his weight on. Climbing up two stories was one thing, climbing down was a bit more distressing. It was much too dark to see his own feet when he swung them down, let alone the bottom of the trunk itself. Very carefully, he turned himself onto his knees, finding enough of a grip on the wet bark to wrap his fingers over. He used the toe of his shoe to kick into the bark, desperate for a ledge. 

He didn’t trust his grip, thinking he could feel the weight of his body pulling the soaked bark from the massive tree. He felt panic rising from the pit of his stomach to his chest, deciding the pull himself back up to his perch. Just as he reached the top, he felt the piece of bark he’d been gripping tear free. He felt the cold panic rise to his throat like a tidal wave, feeling himself almost topple backwards. When he had his ass firmly back on the bark, he tossed the chunk of wood in his hand as far as he could out of endless frustration.   
He kicked his heel into the wood, making a face as his ankle, the tendon, made contact with a hard piece of bark. Pain shot up the back of his leg, and he winced. His leg shot back up, bent at the knee as a reaction to the pain. He actually tumbled backwards that time, luckily being saved by the tree he was currently stuck on. He couldn’t believe he had been so foolish. 

Out of what seemed like nowhere, a rumble from the distance caught him off guard. He gripped his perch the best he could, staring off into the darkness. He took a moment to catch his breath, letting his chest rise and fall silently. Every few seconds, the trees would shake above him, and even through the impossibly thick wood underneath him, he could feel the vibration emanating up and into his very bones. He knew that feeling all too well, and based on the weight it carried, he knew exactly what was behind it. He had no reason to fear a Capreolinae. 

The vibrations grew closer. He spread his fingers out across the wood, enjoying the familiar rumble through the moisture of the bark beneath him. He didn’t dare light his candle again, not for fear of being seen this time. It was rare for a Capreolinae to be wandering at this time of night, especially in this area of the woods. He didn’t want to risk even the smallest flame causing a fright. Though he may have been hours away from modern life, it was rare to see other humans taking the risk. It was safest the deepest the Capreolinae could go.

The rumbling grew deafening, until he knew the creature couldn’t be more than a mile away. By now the heavy falling of hooves shook the trunk he was gripping, jostling him from his position every time it stepped down. 

By some miracle, just as the creature drew into what previously wouldn’t have been visible, another gush of wind rushed him. The thick canopy above his head parted, if only for a moment. Silvery light, speckled by stray leaves shone down right in front of him, as if the moon herself had reached down and granted him sight. There it was.   
The Capreolinae he saw, if only for a moment, was one of the rarer ones to find so far away from the north. It was what they called in the mainland a reindeer, but this creature had one significant difference. It towered as high as the skyscrapers that filled cities, a rack of antlers that bent and curved so high, there should have been clouds dancing between the spaces.

He breathed out a quiet whistle, breath taken by it even if he had seen it before. You tend to forget how magnificent these beasts are from the ground.  
It went past him slowly, as no Capreolinae of that size could move very quickly. It was so close he could feel it, the warmth the living creature radiated. It created a breeze as it walked past, massive legs stirring the frigid air and blowing the hair out of his face. The musk that thick northern fur carried was potent, and he had to refrain from covering his nose with his sleeve. He had been absent too long, he had nearly forgotten.

By the time the vibrations began to lessen, great crashes on the forest floor less and less bone-rattling, he was back to dealing with his current conflict. Between the joy of seeing a beloved beast, the panic of his situation, and the crisp air from his elevation, his guard went down just a fraction. Just enough he didn’t note the breeze that ran through his hair like fingers carried a warmth. A fraction just small enough that the air turned sweet, a sickly sweet, fruit that was over-ripe. It didn’t occur to him he was still in danger.

By the time he noticed the air had become too thick, it was too late. The air held weight that the open space should never have, holding a warmth and wrapping around his shoulders like a caress. He panicked, throwing himself backwards as a first instinct. His back collided with the wet bark underneath him, as he pressed himself as low as he possibly could. 

He felt the warmth press forward, and he even tilted his feet towards each other, anything to throw the living tendrils of air. He stayed still as a corpse, barely allowing himself to breathe, despite how hard his heart was hammering away in his chest. He squeezed his eyes closed, willing the warmth to pass. He didn’t want to become a meal, not so soon on return. When the chill returned, he let himself sigh, but the relief came too soon.

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted to two very yellow, very bright ones, not inches away from his face. The eerie light illuminated the creatures face, even though he heard the grin in is tone even before he caught glimpse of it. A voice all too familiar cut through the darkness. Oh no. By the moon, please no!

“Hello Perrin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its getting longer bois. Still very, very, short. But its a process and a half


	3. Reintroduction (Pt. 3)

Perrin shot up in alarm, causing a collision with the other boy above his head. He felt the solid thunk! of bone colliding with bone, and felt pain creep from the point of impact to his temples. Over the ringing in his ears, he heard the other boy grumble in pain. 

“What,” he groaned, holding his hand over the point of contact, “in the w’rld wast that f’r?”

Perrin snorted at him, brushing off the thighs off his jeans like he had somewhere to be, someone important to see, and wanted to look presentable. 

“The fact you think I did that on purpose astounds me, firstly.” He huffed, crossing his arms like his head wasn’t still pounding (and his ears weren’t still ringing.) He boy only snickered.

The other boy was someone Perrin knew very well, even if it had been years since their last meeting. He was tall, it was one of the first things people noticed about him, but that wasn’t unusual for wendigos (or wendigo halflings). But as most of his kind would have been half rotten flesh, skeletal beasts, he was different. Perrin only knew this because he knew the boy, but he knew his mother had been a kind of nymph, a spirit of light that had fallen in love with a beast of darkness. The light in him kept the other boy looking almost human, save for the scarred tissue where his heart would lie. But his skin was as dark as the night around him, only marred by the scars of the flesh he had collected in his years of life in the woods.

Though his face was friendly, framed by soft curls he could almost feel in his fingers again, the antlers sprouting out of his head were striking. They were also covered in soft curls, turning them black/brown in colour. Though the hair was much coarser, and too short to notice the curls if you weren’t close with him, the pattern of the antlers was unlike most deer, growing oddly and thin to blend into the branches in the darkness. 

Perrin realized he had been staring when the other boy laughed again, a little louder than the first snicker. He secretly praised the deep darkness around them, knowing his face was growing warm. 

“You haven’t changed a did bite.” The boy laughed, the Northerner accent bleeding through his (also very Northern) vocabulary. Perrin’s face only got warmer and he huffed at the boy again.

“I’ll have you know I’ve changed very much!” Perrin snapped at him, wanting to cross his arms to further iterate how annoyed he was but, unfortunately, the fact they were already crossed took away from the effect. The other boy laughed again (that was getting on Perrin’s nerves).

The other boy waved his hand, elongated talons catching what small light there was to reflect.

“Good now, so you have changed yourself. Valorous thee.” He waved his hand dismissably at him, like he didn’t believe him one bit. He still had that awful grin on his face, lips pressed tight enough to reveal teeth that Perrin knew were sharp as needles. Perrin only glared at him, hating how warm his face felt despite the chilly air around them. The other boy turned and looked down and into the darkness, the breeze that only he could feel making his hair move on his own accord. 

He turned back to Perrin sharply.

“How wast you expecting to receive down?” He asked, and Perrin swore he could taste the trace of smug in his tone. He sighed.

“I was going to climb down, if that wasn’t in sense to you.” He snapped, putting an exaggerated Northern accent on a common Northern phrase. The other boy frowned. 

“If't be true, you shall fall. If’t you fall, you shall perish.” He stated, his tone leaving no room for Perrin to argue. He extended a hand to him, offering that held more peace than Perrin could imagine. 

“Allow me to help. I’ve did miss you, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT well this is super late but in my defense, I did just start University. That Is All

**Author's Note:**

> Okay hello this is. More an experiment than a real work. It's extremely extremely short but it's a necessary introduction into a universe getting bigger by the minute. More will come, and quickly. 
> 
> Until then, enjoy!


End file.
